Both Juan and Elena Yurrita are in their mid-thirties, from the generation that grew up in the heady years when Spain was emerging as a young democracy after the rule of Francisco Franco. The vision of these young people looks outward to new possibilities, after so many years of national isolation that was typical of Spanish life in the aftermath of the bloody Civil War of 1936-1939.

They are a happily married couple from the Basque Country who are blessed with two daughters, Nora, 8, and Irena, 5 (almost the same age as two of our grandchildren). The Yurrita family has been involved in preparing the famous bonito del norte tuna and delicate anchovies of the Cantabrian Sea for five generations.

Juan works with his father, Alfonso, and his Uncle Jorge who direct the family’s artisan company today; in turn, their fathers were in charge and so on – stretching back to 1867. Originally, the men of the family were fishermen who went to sea on small boats to fish in the Cantabrian Bay that borders San Sebastian and Zarautz.

Juan’s wife Elena comes from a similar background. She also is from a family that has been fishing for many generations. Although her grandfather operated his own fishing boat, her dad broke from the mold by becoming a professional football (soccer) player. From early childhood, she loved to cook – often watching her mother and grandmother making her favorite food: delicious croquetas made of thick béchamel sauce and jamón, bacalao and other fillings.

The parents of both Juan and Elena taught them from an early age that in the food business there is no substitute for quality ingredients, and careful attention to detail. For example, Elena’s grandmother always made their croquetas with very fresh local milk, which added an elusive richness to the final product. Juan’s family business has never cut corners: they have always used only costly extra virgin olive oil when packing their anchovies and bonito tuna. Juan explained to me that they prefer oil from the tiny Arbequina olives, whose sweet fragrant flavor provides a perfect balance for the saltiness of the anchovies.

For centuries, even back to Biblical times, being a fisherman was a time-honored vocation, which brought a certain elemental satisfaction, even though going to sea requires long hours and sometimes dangerous work. You will know what I mean if you have ever spent some time in a fishing port, with the briny air, the hovering sea gulls and the fishermen at work maintaining their gear and repairing their boats.

The Yurrita family is a partner to these men, receiving their fresh catch and processing it with care. They support anchovy fishermen, both young and old, who go out in their small boats from the shores of San Sebastian and Zarautz to gather their catch in a responsible manner. They make sure that the anchovies harvested are mature, and release the “small fry” back into the sea, so that these baby fish can grow to maturity, to be caught another day. For centuries, this was the wisdom of their trade, passed from father to son. For this reason the local breeding stock remained replenished.

But in recent times fishermen with no sense of stewardship entered the long-established fishing grounds and almost ruined the traditional way of life of the local citizenry by harvesting even the little ones – highly prized by some food fanciers. Soon the famous anchovies from the Cantabrian Sea virtually disappeared, largely because these boats from outside the region used advanced sighting devices and trolling nets.

Through technology they easily located schools of anchovies and indiscriminately harvested them, along with other creatures of the sea caught in their nets. The traditional grounds were quickly fished out. It is a familiar story – much as what has happened elsewhere with blue fin tuna in the Mediterranean, codfish from the Grand Banks off Newfoundland, and even oysters from the great Chesapeake Bay, near where I live. Juan told me that for the last four years, there were virtually no local fish. It is only this current season that they are regenerating, due to a total ban imposed over the last few years on the fishing of anchovies.

As Juan grew up within his family business, he learned the standards of ethical fishing and careful preparation. But he noted well that the recent crisis concerning the availability of anchovies from the Cantabrian Sea could happen again, and he desired to protect his family’s well being by making them less dependent on the vagaries of fishing.

As a young man, even before the shortage of anchovies occurred, Juan heard of a unique program addressing food marketing at St Joseph’s University in Philadelphia. Specialized marketing of food was a concept that was unheard of in traditional Spain. With his father’s blessing, he headed off to an educational adventure in a new land with a new language. He returned with his head full of ideas of how the family’s business could prosper and expand beyond its traditional means of supporting their extended families.

Typical of the new Spanish vigor, Elena, his wife to be, also left her household to earn a degree in industrial engineering. Even with their added tools of higher education, Juan and Elena had no thought of striking out on their own and leaving their families for broader horizons – something their American counterparts might consider doing. Both came from traditional backgrounds, and naturally wanted to remain close to their roots; yet they prepared to meet the new demands of the 21st century, and the preservation of their family business.

One change they recognized was the advent of quality frozen food with the entire infrastructure needed to maintain it. Related to that was the increasing pace of the mercantile culture together with the mounting number of women who entered the work force. They had the foresight to realize that there would be increased demand for quality meals for the busy professional to bring home and enjoy with minimal preparation.

In an earlier Flavors of Spain essay, I told you of Lola León and her friends who got up early in the morning to prepare traditional sauces and soups for their fellow mothers who had to work outside the home. They created a virtual pantry, Despensa la Nuestra (Our Pantry), of handmade products so that their neighbors could still maintain the tradition of sharing a mid-day dinner with their husbands and children. Now Juan and Elena were carrying this concept one step further. They decided to bring quality prepared dishes to food lovers everywhere.

When he studied in Philadelphia, Juan had noticed this trend among Americans. Now, with Elena, they could anticipate the demand at home. They remembered croquetas as an all time favorite of theirs and of the tapas bars throughout Spain. I remember reading an article by a Spanish food critic who said that you could judge a good restaurant by the quality of croquetas they serve.

Therefore, four years ago the Yurrita family purchased a small building in the neighboring village of Zumaia and developed a gourmet recipe for croquetas with the help of a local Basque chef named Andoni Eduren. Next, they set to work nine local women to make all kinds of croquetas by hand, including jamón ibérico, bacalao, Cabrales cheese, mushroom, tuna, and piquillo pepper. Their most remarkable creation is made from chopped mussel mixed into béchamel sauce, and returned to its shell. Then it is sprinkled with fine crumbs before deep fat frying. It is extraordinarily good when served piping hot.

Juan explained to me that there is no deep dark secret to the making of great croquetas. As with any fine cooking, however humble the item, you do not compromise with any of the ingredients and you make them with patience and care. Each morning absolutely fresh milk is delivered from a friend’s dairy farm who has a herd of 80 cows. The chef mixes the milk with fresh fine flour and extra virgin olive oil from Toledo. The fish and seafood added are fresh from the ocean; the Cabrales cheese comes from neighboring Asturias -- freshness is the watchword. The ladies form the croquetas with care, just as they would in their own homes and fry them at the proper heat. Next they are chilled, frozen and are on their way to tables in Spain and America! It is as simple as that.

One of the wonderful things about the world in which we live is that through technology and commercial infrastructure we actually can have on our plates in America the same piping hot croquetas enjoyed in the homes of the Basque Country. By doing so we support families who choose not to blindly industrialize, but rather to use modern technology to preserve their time-honored cuisine.

Saludos,
Don

Many times when I am traveling the byways of Spain, I feel an almost magical bond connecting me with the hundreds of generations who have populated this ancient land. Sometimes it is prompted by a seemingly insignificant object such as the humble cazuela, the simple terra cotta dish that has been used by Spanish families for thousands of years.

We can trace this type of cookware back to 1000 BC, during the times of the first Phoenicians who settled in the Atlantic port of Cádiz. As the centuries have passed, the long succession of people who have inhabited the narrow Cádiz peninsula have continued to use this type of terra cotta bowl for daily living. Today when I visit a tapas bar in Cádiz, I am likely to be served fresh olives or a portion of sizzling hot garlic shrimp in an earthenware terra cotta cazuela, not unlike those of centuries past.

The most interesting cazuelas I have encountered in my travels are from the age-old town of Breda, which is just as far from Cádiz as you can travel while remaining in Spain. Nestled in the foothills of the Pyrenees north of Barcelona, Breda is close to the fascinating town of Girona, where at various times Jews, Christians and Moors made their homes. The Romans were there before all of those settlers and in the course of living in Breda, they discovered a rich deposit of a unique type of clay that their potters fashioned into superb cazuelas, bowls and plates.

What distinguished this clay from many other types is its ability to be formed into dense and cohesive products when baked in a traditional kiln. The Romans reinforced the intrinsic strength of the terra cotta by adding tiny pebbles to the clay before it was fired. This refractory process enabled the cazuela to have remarkable structural integrity, while having the added virtue of retaining the heat of newly cooked foods for extended periods. Today the potters of Breda make terra cotta cazuelas from the identical source of clay, following essentially the same traditional method that the Romans initiated during the days of their Legions.

When I first picked up a random cazuela in Breda, I recognized straight away that this ordinary terra cotta vessel was in the shape of a Roman bowl such as you and I would see in an archeological museum. Here I was, in the dawn of the twenty first century, holding an echo of antiquity in my hand. Once again, I felt that magical bond with the generations of Spaniards who had stood on this ground before me.

The cazuelas of Breda are not the only objects that reflect the continuity of Spain. Whenever I stroll the streets of Toledo, I experience the same connection with the generations who have walked on these same cobblestones before me. As with my time in Breda and Cádiz, once again I experience this magical convergence of cultures as I browse the shops of Toledo with their Damascene style metalwork, mazapán sweets fashioned into fruit and animal shapes and the brightly colored plates fashioned by modern day potters who echo the symmetrical designs of Islam.

For within holy Toledo is an amazing confluence of cultures of the Arian Visigoths who migrated from Northern lands: the Moors who initially were Berbers invading from Africa, the indigenous Iberians and the Jews who contributed to a remarkable center of learning which translated from Arabic the ancient texts of classical Greek learning.

Then there is enchanting Sevilla. Toward the end of her prosperous centuries under Moorish rule, the amazing Giralda minaret was built in 1284 to complement the Great Mosque. It was not too many years later that the victorious Christians transformed the Giralda into a magnificent towering bell tower for their vast Christian cathedral. Within the church’s spacious interior lie the remains of Christopher Columbus. The stunning golden screen behind the High Altar proclaims Sevilla as the crown jewel of the Christian Reconquista.

Two hundred and eight years later, Ferdinand and Isabella designated Sevilla as the hub for the voyages to the New World, and the spirit of Spain haunts every corner. I love passing by her stately buildings as I walk her cobble stoned streets, which are so evocative of Spain’s Golden Age.

Across the Guadalquivir River which flows through Sevilla is the neighborhood of Triana where gypsy, Moorish and Christian cultures meld in the creations of the makers of colorful traditional wall tiles, as well as in the haunting melodies of flamenco. Throughout the city ceramics abound in the hundreds of tiled entryways and patios that adorn the homes of Sevilla and their civic buildings.

Most amazing are the dazzling enamel and gold ceramic objects, replicas of those made in the Moorish Golden Age eight hundred years ago. A few artisans employ the now vanishing technique of corda seca - a ceramic cloisonné glaze and gold process to make gorgeous decorative plates. In all of these experiences, this ancient land and its people have left their mark on my soul.

I experience America in quite a different way. We Americans live in a very young country, and our strength as a nation lies in our flexibility, rather than in our lineage. A steady stream of immigrants comes to join us in our country, and I feel enriched by their contributions as new Americans. All this change is invigorating, but it also can be unsettling because, unlike Spain, we do not have a long enough history in which to integrate all these threads into a coherent culture.

Perhaps that is why Ruth and I, after spending 26 years in the Navy where we experienced many of the corners of America and the world, have chosen to settle near Jamestown, Virginia the site of the oldest permanent English settlement in America. Maybe it is because we resonate with this example of American continuity, that we so much enjoy experiencing the continuity of Spain. It is a fascinating amalgam of many cultures, yet its soul transcends them all.

Saludos,
Don

For just a brief moment, all of Spain was focused on a deep valley in the dramatic Picos de Europa, bounded by almost vertical canyon walls. Like a shooting star, events in the bucolic valley of Covadonga and the village of Cangas de Onis flashed across the sky, and after a few dramatic years returned to a place where shepherds tend their flocks and make cheeses.

The fabled Battle of Covadonga was where, under the leadership of the legendary Don Pelayo, brave Asturian mountain men halted the inexorable advance of the Muslim forces. Had the Asturians lost, the Christians would have been pushed into the sea, for they were located but a few miles south of the Bay of Biscay in Northern Spain.

Some say that it was the Virgin of Covadonga who protected Don Pelayo and his men; others refer to the legendary account of Saint James, the brother of Jesus, who rode from the heavens on a huge white horse, flashing an impressive sword. His miraculous arrival inspired the Christian band, and for the first time, in 722 AD, Christians stopped the relentless advance of the Moorish army.

Today there is a statue of valiant Don Pelayo to the left of the basilica in Covadonga, where he seems to be surveying the valley of his triumph. You can visit the shrine of Our Lady of Covadonga in the caves near the site of the battle. The earthly remains of Saint James rest farther away in Galicia, under the high altar of the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, the goal of pilgrims for over 1,000 years.

The narrative that would be more acceptable to us skeptics is that the conquering Berber army had swept through virtually the entire peninsula carving a swath of destruction. Apparently the Asturian hold-outs in the mountains were a cause of irritation to the Muslim leaders. The lineage of these Christian warriors is unclear – perhaps an amalgam of Asturs, Visigoths, Vandals and Iberians. At any rate the mountain defenders lured a party of Muslims (how many we do not know) into an ambush as they were traversing one of the many blind valleys of the Picos.

This was the turning point for the embattled Christians of Spain, and Covadonga became the battle cry for the Reconquista - an intermittent struggle which lasted for over 750 years and shaped the character of the Spanish people. The victorious Don Pelayo established the Kingdom of Asturias with Cangas de Onis as the capital.

About fifty years later the capital was moved to the city of Oviedo, whose cathedral possessed precious relics from the Holy Land which you can visit today in the Camera Santa. Nearby, in Naranco and Lillo, new architecture flourished as the kingdom grew to be a major force in the reconquest of Spain. After its brief moment in the sun, Cangas de Onis slipped back into obscurity.

Even after nearly 45 years of traveling the byways of Spain, my wife Ruth and I had never been to Covadonga, so this year we made our pilgrimage to the site. We stayed just outside Cangas de Onis in the Monasterio de San Pedro de Villanueva. The original building was built by Alfonso I. The majority of the current structure was a 12th century Benedictine monastery until it was tastefully converted into a superb Parador country hotel by the Spanish government.

After we became settled, I telephoned a La Tienda friend, Jaime (Jim) Fernández and his wife Renate. We had never met in person, yet our friendship had grown as we exchanged emails about cheese and life in Asturias. When I mentioned that we were thinking of visiting Asturias, Jim graciously invited us to join him and his wife Renate in their apartment in Cangas, which they have owned for the past 23 years.

He announced with a certain flair that he would prepare his favorite Asturian-style garlic soup for his honored visitors, and we were greeted by a warm and cordial couple, who turned out to be retired cultural anthropologists lately from the University of Chicago where Jim still teaches the spring term, even though he is nearly eighty years old. No run of the mill academics are they, either - they are still climbing around in the Picos de Europa, and in this way are friskier than I am (or perhaps ever was).

They ushered us into their parlor and over glasses of fresh sidra (hard cider) served us two types of hand made Gamoneu cheese - a blue cheese with a subtler flavor than the better known Cabrales. One wedge they served was made in a high mountain pass (del puerto) and the other was made in the valley (del valle). Jim and Renate told us that they were putting the finishing touches on a manuscript about this rare cheese and those who make it.

I found it a joy to be with a couple who have shared their lives – the ups and downs – for years on end, and are working in harmony as companions in their later years: whether it be composing a book together, enjoying the farmers’ market or even climbing in the mountains as they do. Over Jim’s hearty garlic soup, the four of us traded many tales ranging from stories of our families to experiences we have had over the years to our mutual love of the Spanish people.

Jim has strong Asturian roots. He recounted that Fernández was a typical Asturian surname, which was borne by his grandfather who emigrated to America in the early 1900’s. After finishing his schooling Jim chose cultural anthropology as a career because he did not want to be an academic sitting behind a desk, and he taught for many years at Dartmouth, Princeton and the University of Chicago as well as in Madrid.

On his way to pursue his career by living with people deep in Africa, Jim met his future wife purely by coincidence. Both of them were disembarking from a voyage to Europe, and Jim gallantly offered to help her with her luggage. One thing led to another (another story), and he married Renate who eventually joined him during his work in Africa.

But an unanticipated turn of events caused them to settle in Jim’s ancestral land of Asturias. Life in Africa had placed the health of their very young son in jeopardy, and so Jim and Renate decided it was best for the family to leave Africa. Renate found rewarding work being involved in the lives of shepherds and cheese makers in Asturias. After living a while in the high mountain meadows of the Picos de Europa, they moved to Cangas de Onis in the valley, so that the children could attend school.

The evening of fellowship drew to a close, but Jim and Renate were eager to have us experience Market Day in Cangas de Onis a couple of days later. As we approached the market we saw the familiar sight of a churro maker who served up a paper cone full of the piping hot fritters. Next to him was a flower seller with plenty of cheery primroses to brighten the late winter day. Nearby was a truck loaded with the largest cache of garlic that I had ever seen in one location - including rustic woven garlands which filled the open gate of the truck. At the edge of the market building was a cornucopia of Spanish fruit from Andalucía: boxes full of every sort of citrus – mandarinas, clementinas, navel and juice oranges.

As Jim and Renate ushered us inside the market they introduced us to several acquaintances of theirs among a hall full of cheese makers. It goes without saying that they were familiar with many of the villagers who make cheese. Wooden tables were laden with newly made cheeses – hearty Cabrales blue cheese from caves in a neighboring town, small delicate fresh cheeses such as Afuega’l’ Pitu. There were also tables full of Gamoneu, the cheese to which Jim and Renate had dedicated so many months of study.

As I tried to talk to one of the cheese makers (my Spanish is shaky at best), to my astonishment Christina introduced herself using perfect English! I asked her to tell me a little about herself and she said she perfected her English while earning a doctorate in education at Stanford University in California!

She explained that she grew up in Holland and attended undergraduate university in Amsterdam. It is another complicated story, but the gist of it is that she ended up here in Asturias after living a while in southern Spain. There she enjoyed the experience of raising a few sheep and goats. So as not to be raising the animals for slaughter, Christina decided to apply for a three month apprenticeship in cheese making held in Cangas de Onis. She so fell in love with the area and the people that she never left! Now she is tending animals and making cheese with her partner Pepitu, a local shepherd who proudly drove Ruth and me along a rutted muddy lane to show us their fold.

Pepitu led us across a green pasture to their corral which contained frisky goats and their kids; heavy woolen coated sheep with their lambs; two substantial sheepdogs that protect the flocks; and a Vietnamese Pot Bellied sow with lots of piglets! He then demonstrated to us how he makes the cheese, lightly smoking it with a little stove in a small wooden building. The cheese could not be more hand crafted.

What drew us to this valley? For Ruth and me it was the myth of Covadonga. For Jaime and Renate, it was a return to his roots and the culture of the people and their artisan handiwork. For Christina it was learning how to make cheese and finding an internally rewarding life with her Asturian partner Pepitu and the community of shepherds.

What a remarkable juncture of lives! One small town tucked in a mountain valley harbors ancient dolmens which were objects of devotion 4,000-6,000 years ago. It also is saturated with the legends of Don Pelayo and Covadonga, as well as the towering figure of Santiago and the initial events of the Reconquista. Now kings and warriors are gone, and it is once more home to shepherds and cheese makers. Once in a while Cangas de Onis hosts inquisitive outsiders who seek learn what she has to offer, if only for a few days, or months.

Saludos,
Don

I have been writing reflections about Spain and her culture over the past several years. The prevailing theme has been that the bedrock of the traditional Spanish culture is the importance they place on being together as a family, including the extraordinary way they cherish their children.

A few years ago, this was the normal way of life throughout Spain: uncles and aunts, cousins and grandparents were next door neighbors. They saw each other several times a week while shopping at the local market or at their favorite tapas bar. Family members often worked together in the fields, operated local shops or manned the fishing boats.

It was a preindustrial society, where the natural cycles of the seasons, from planting to harvest, encouraged a stable way of life. Even though there have been some profound changes in the social structure of Spain in the past 20 or 30 years, the foundational values of integrated family loyalty and mutual support are still in place.

The development of society in America over the past few generations has taken a different turn as waves of immigrants arrived from many different homelands. The new Americans gained a great deal of individual freedom because they were no longer bound by the customs of an older culture. However, it was at the cost of losing a sense of belonging.

As a result, the United States and Canada are young and flexible countries, but with fragile family roots. It is not uncommon in America for parents to live in one state and their children to live hundreds of miles away. I have friends who fly 4,000 miles from Richmond to Anchorage in order to see their grandchildren for a week or two each year!

This family separation was brought home to me while attending our annual La Tienda party. Each year our family enjoys an evening with the La Tienda "family" thanking them for their hard work during the holiday rush. This year was especially memorable because we were together in our new La Tienda retail store, a historic farmhouse and potter’s studio that we have transformed to reflect the "ambiante" of Spain.

As we enjoyed tapas with our employees and their families, I noticed that we were a veritable United Nations! There were people from a dozen different countries: Portugal, Spain, Cuba, Bolivia, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Greece, India, Brazil, the Philippines, Puerto Rico and, of course, the United States. Not that we had planned it that way, but this is America!

Most of these industrious men and women have come to the United States to make a better life, just as my grandparents chose to do around the turn of the 20th Century. But there is a cost, often overlooked, that is integral to their decision to come to America: they are separated from generations of their families who remain behind.

We were with many proud parents with their happy children scampering from room to room. But most of the families there are not able to replicate the traditional extended family structure that Ruth and I and our children enjoy, and I write about in my Reflections. They live far from parents and brothers and sisters whom they hold dear. Their children do not grow up close to uncles and aunts, cousins and grandparents.

This is a significant loss. They need to find other ways to maintain the family ties and make a healthy life for themselves and their children. But necessity is the mother of invention, especially in America. What I learned in talking with our fellow workers is that some of them have been very ingenious in maintaining close ties with those back home.

One example is Nirav from India. His father felt strongly that his family should eat together around a common table every day. Nirav continues this tradition: he eats a meal with his family in India every week, even though they are on the other side of the world. How does he do that?

Nirav and his parents have a standing appointment once a week. Each Saturday morning Nirav gets up, takes a shower and dresses in a careful manner. Then he sets the table for breakfast in front of his computer. When all the elements are assembled, he "Skypes" his parents in India. Anticipating the call, Nirav's parents have set the table for their evening meal. When they are connected via Skype, Nirav and his parents share conversation and a common meal, or at least a common mealtime via video.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Skype, it is a wonderful tool, which you can have for free on your computer. Once you download it, you can call other Skype users all over the world at no cost. What if your family member or friend does not have Skype? They can download it in 30 seconds. If they do not have a computer you can use Skype to telephone them at virtually no cost.

Nirav has taken advantage of this remarkable new technology to be with his family on the other side of the world. He told me wryly that he spends more time with his parents now than when he lived in India with the myriad distractions which are part of a young man’s fast-paced life. He has overcome the realities of 21st century life in which traditional bonds may be strained by geography.

Just as Nirav video calls his home in India, our friend Millie calls her family in Bolivia once or twice a week. Here in the United States she is raising a happy family with her husband and two children, yet her ties to her family in Bolivia are not broken. She tells me that she never misses a birthday or a family occasion, and is in close touch. Again, it is through Skype.

What I took away from that party with the Tienda community of workers is this: if you value close family ties and the healthy life they bring, you can maintain them, even in adverse situations. You just have to be committed and ingenious. Of course Nirav and his parents would love to be able to be in the same room, sharing a meal together and enjoying each other's presence. But that is not to be, so Skype makes possible a pretty good substitute.

What of the people back in the Old Country? In Spain during the recent boom years, it was a little harder to maintain the traditional social structure. There were the attractions and demands of the glamorous fast-moving new economy. The severe economic "crisis" has prompted many young Spaniards to reevaluate their new found autonomy and renew their traditional ties to their families.

I send my best to you and to those whom you love.
Don

In the early years of La Tienda, a young man named Tomás Lozano contacted me. At the time we were experimenting with many new products from Spain to discover what our customers would like. We featured ceramics, foods and a handful of hand-carved reproductions of medieval art, including wooden panels and crosses. He wanted to buy a polychrome cross as a gift for his wife Rima.

I was intrigued by who this young person with such an unusual request might be, since he was presumably raised in our progressively more secular age. As we talked over the phone at great length, I sensed that Tomás and I shared a close affinity with the spirituality of medieval art and sculpture. Over the years our friendship has grown, although we have never met each other face to face -- only through emails and, even more, through my listening to a CD he gave me entitled "Crisol Luz: Songs of the Middle Ages".

Tom’s family is from a tiny town high in the mountains northeast of Granada. His grandfather was a miller, who also owned a bakery, but it was confiscated during the Spanish Civil War, and to be safe he withdrew with his family to operate a very remote mill in the country. He died when his son was only 15, leaving Tomas’s dad to take over the mill. His mother’s family were farmers. When the Civil War started, her father was sent to the front and was only one of six survivors of a battalion of 200 men.

During the sixties both families moved to the north seeking employment, eventually settling far from Andalucía in an industrial section of Barcelona, where manufacturing opened new possibilities for them. It is there that Tomás was born in 1967, and grew up speaking Spanish at home and Catalan outside of the house. In addition, he learned French at an early age.

When Tomás reached his fifth birthday, it was time for him to begin learning what it was to be a man, so during the summer months his parents entrusted him to his mother’s uncle who had spent his life in the fields as a shepherd. There in Cataluña he lived as a shepherd boy, tending sheep side by side with his great-uncle, and "grew strong in the fields", as Tomás describes it. He cherished those summers with his uncle strolling through the meadows among the sheep and the dogs, accompanied by birds that would perch in the groves of trees around them. He and his uncle Francisco would take naps and eat ripe figs and plums off the trees.

If you will take a moment, I invite you to get to know Tomás, in the piece he wrote for liner notes from his forthcoming CD entitled, "The Morn of Saint John’s Day".

"I remember what Uncle Francisco taught me. He, like all good shepherds of his time, would sing during the long walks and waits in the fields, watching the sheep graze in green pastures and along riverbeds. He played no instrument, but made good use of his strong, rasping voice and whistles which, to a boy hardly three feet above the ground, would frighten the wits out of me, so shrill and loud they were.

He knew a great deal of stories, songs, sayings and old ballads. He was a repository of popular culture. Too bad that I, too young to know better, did not record his wealth of knowledge, gather it somehow, besides what rubbed off on me almost by osmosis. I cannot remember the songs, but my mother tells me that (they were) among a long list of ballads. By the time I had my wits about me, the shepherd and his sheep had long gone. Ballads form part of my life and also that of my elders, farmers, millers and shepherds. My grandmother recited portions of the Conde Olinos to me as a boy and I especially remember an occasion when I fell asleep to the words, 'That is not the little mermaid, mother/ nor the merman,/ but the son of the Kingly Count/ who for me is a wanting'."

As Tomás progressed to the higher grades of school he played Catalan folk music (including some from medieval days) with his fellow students. Soon they were playing in small clubs in Barcelona. His singing was particularly appealing in that it was enriched by his traditional Andalucian roots.

In 1993 Tomás and his fellow performers were sponsored by a Spanish ministry and invited to perform medieval and traditional music throughout North America. Their last performance was in New Mexico, where they became enchanted with its old Santa Fe families who spoke in a beautiful old form of Spanish. They had been carrying on the traditions of Spain for generations.

Tomás was astonished to be able to see traditions from the old Spain still alive in the United States. So he decided to stay a bit longer to experience this amazing place and then a bit longer until 14 years passed before he moved on!

During those years Tomás and his friends created a series of theatrical and musical shows that they took especially to the schools of underserved communities. In some cases they were very small villages, rural and isolated areas of the Hispanic towns and Native American communities. Many times they found that no one had ever before performed in their schools or community centers.

During those years while Tomás was immersed in the New Mexican traditions, he met a soul mate and now wife, Rima Montoya, who was a grad student at UNM. Together they wrote a book, published in 2007 by UNM Press entitled "Cantemos al Alba - Origins of Songs Sounds and Liturgical Dramas of Hispanic New Mexico".

The most interesting thing that I found out from their research among many different Franciscan manuscripts from the colonial times is that by 1629 (nine years after Plymouth Rock), there were full orchestras and choirs in the New Mexican missions, where the musicians and singers were Native Americans from the different Pueblos. And by 1654, most of the missions also had an organ. It is an important part of the US musical history that is completely missed.

Over the years I have grown to appreciate what a remarkable and humble man this shepherd boy has become as a singer, musician, scholar and writer. Making sure that my memory was accurate before writing this reflection, I asked Tom for his recollection of our first contact:

"During the time that Rima and I were doing the investigation for Cantemos al Alba, I discovered an interesting web site that had lots of things from Spain, La Tienda. Back in 2002, they had beautiful reproductions of medieval carvings from Spain. I was very interested in one particularly called 'The Majestad', carved originally by Batlló, so its common name now is 'Majestad Batlló'. I wanted to get this carving for my wife who was away visiting her family, and I wanted to surprise her in her return.

I have always been in love with everything that has to do with the Romanesque. I don’t know exactly why, maybe because of its harmony, or because I grew up surrounded by Romanesque towns that it is such a part of me. I don’t know. So I called La Tienda and a gentle man answered the phone and almost instantaneously we had a great connection between the two of us; and that first conversation lasted an hour and a half. That man, to whom I hold a great friendship, even though we have never met in person yet, was Don Harris. This is a proof that human soul is beyond time and space."

As you can imagine, I am deeply touched by his warm remarks, and extend my warmest wishes to all of you and those whom you love.

Don

P.S. Let me know if you are interested in Tom’s latest recording "The Morn of St John’s Day". I have a few copies on hand.

Amy, Tim, my eldest son, and their two boys have just arrived in Andalucía for a six month stay, or shall I say “adventure.” The boys, 7 and 9 will be attending a small Spanish/English school in Jerez de la Frontera — just as their father had done 36 years ago — except he was at El Centro Inglés in Puerto, when I was in the Navy.

I am including a portion of an entertaining email from Amy. It is an account of Three Kings Day — the boys’ first encounter with Spanish culture after growing up in staid, very Anglo Williamsburg. I remember when we took Tim and Jonathan to Tres Reyes in Jerez many years ago we experienced the same variety of reactions from the crowd that occur today. We saw one of those aggressive mothers who pushed aside a little boy as she grabbed one of the soccer balls that were being distributed! And there was also a similar caring mother who looked out for all the children in her area. Times never change.

Last night we went to the legendary Tres Reyes (Three Kings) parade in Jerez. It far surpassed all of our expectations! It began with the three kings, elaborately costumed and on horseback, and was followed by bands of all sorts, bagpipers, real camels (frothy and indignant), various costumed groups of knights, moors, Africans, Romans.

And then there were the candy barges. Costumed children would ride by on spectacular floats, and would fling hard candies (caramelos) at the crowd. We soon saw why people brought umbrellas and turned them upside down. After a few of these hurlings, I learned to cover my head because hard candies on the head hurt! Ben was in all of his glory, scrambling under feet to gather up free candy.

I was conflicted – the polite mid-westerner part of me, who never wants to push or shove, was quickly over-powered by the fierce mother who doesn’t want her children to be lost in the crowd or trampled under feet or floats! Sam was both appalled and intrigued by the mother next to him who actually shoved him out of the way to make room for her 8 year old son.

There was another mom right next to us, who was very carefully shepherding all the children, including ours, each time the floats came by, which was very nice. I think there was a collective maternal holding of the breath each time a candy barge came by! But there were walkers posted at each of the corners to make sure kids were out of the way. I also didn’t mention that the parade was so long that Sam was begging to go by the end! Ben, of course, wouldn’t leave if there was a possibility of even one more caramelo to be had. I really have never seen, in person, a parade of that quality — wow! I mean guao! (Is that how you spell it?)

Extremadura is one of our very favorite regions of Spain -- it reminds us a little of the Wild West of Texas. The countryside is open and expansive: dry plains, mountains, marshes, meadows and fields. Tourists have not discovered the region so you can go for days just enjoying the landscape and the warm and hospitable people.

The most important area is called the dehesa which is a remnant of the forest which formerly covered all of Europe. It is in this setting where the free range Ibérico pigs are enjoying the countryside eating herbs and acorns among the cork and oak trees. When we walked among them, we carefully sidestepped mud holes where they were blissfully wallowing. They showed a mellow disinterest...

In Extremadura the cooking is almost always simple and straightforward. They have many pork dishes, and some of their soft cheeses, such as those from the towns of Serena and Casar are particularly prized.

Much of the cuisine traces its origins to the convents and abbeys which extended hospitality to visitors in the form of shelter and good food. Yuste sheltered Emperor Charles V when he was weary of the politics of the Holy Roman Empire. The Monastery of Guadalupe was tucked in a valley in rugged mountains, and was a favorite destination of Ferdinand and Isabella – sort of a mountain hideaway. Today it is a ruggedly beautiful drive from Avila and Madrid to the north, and a gradual climb from Trujillo.

It was from Trujillo that many of the restless younger sons left to seek their fortune in the New World. It remains an attractive rural town with a wonderful plaza with a magnificent modern statue dedicated to the hometown Pizarro brothers, conquistadores of their town who conquered Peru.

Related Articles

• Shop Products from Extremadura
• Cities in Extremadura: Caceres

We have found such a kaleidoscope of experiences in Catalonia. Of course, there is vibrant Barcelona, which is the most cosmopolitan of all the cities of Spain. Not far from the French border that is marked by the snow-capped Pyrenees, Barcelona has a familiar feel for those who have traveled in Europe. Strolling down the broad Ramblas boulevard, we have seen everything from stalls featuring pets and parrots, to others with local handcrafts – or the latest sunglasses and DVD’s! Dozens of flower sellers line the long Ramblas brightening the walkway with buckets of freshly cut blooms.

We especially enjoy the vast San Josep de la Boquería fresh market founded in the 13th Century. It is amazing in its vastness, stretching as far as the eye can see. Every possible vegetable, fruit, meat and fish is available in its freshest state.

The Catalan museum of art is one of our favorites – it is filled with rooms of Romanesque frescoes, wall paintings that are distinctly Catalan. Sometimes they have transferred all the frescoes of small mountain churches. However, most of the art beckons us to the winding roads of the Pyrenees. We found the unspoiled town of Vic, was just an hour out of town – its famous sausages and the art collection in the Episcopal palace fed our bodies and souls! Following further north along the road, we discovered the medieval town of Solsona, followed by the abbey church of San Joan de las Abadesas and the castle Parador of Cardona. It is an art experience unavailable anywhere else in the world.

Heading due south we passed through the wine country of Priorat, the early-Christian site of Tarrasa, and on to Tarragona where early one spring we stopped to feast on calçots – grilled green spring onions garnished with the local romesco sauce of ground almonds and hazelnuts along with olive oil, peppers, vinegar and red wine. A little further is an under appreciated jewel: the Cistercian monastery of Santes Creus.

Coastal Catatonia has the famous Costa Brava with Mediterranean surf crashing on the rocks. It is a place where the white anchovies have been harvested since the time of the Greeks. Empordá and the environs has attracted world famous chefs and vintners. North of Barcelona is the ancient city of Girona, whose cathedral contains an exquisite twelfth century tapestry of the Creation. The city also has a fascinating Jewish Quarter. Nearby, we went to the historic ceramic center of Breda where terra cotta cazuelas have been made since Roman times, to the ceramic center of La Bisbal and finally the haunting ruins of San Pere de Roda jutting out into the sea.

Catalonia is an amazing place: from the gentle olive groves of the west and the mountain villages to the north, to the vigor of Barcelona and the sea to the east - and vineyards crowning the hillsides throughout. Some would say Catalonia is a country unto itself.

Related Articles

• Shop Products from Cataluña
• Cities in Cataluña: Girona
• Cities in Cataluña: Lleida

What an amazing variety of cities and products, castles and crocuses in this fascinating part of Spain! We have traveled here and there over the region, but from the moment we first began exploring Spain, we were attracted to Toledo, just about an hour south of Madrid. There you can see a fascinating mosaic of all that has occurred in Spain over the past 2,000 years.

We particularly like to walk the cobble stone streets in the evening as the shops are beginning to close and the restaurants are grilling their meats. It is a very romantic stroll which summons up mental images of the medieval days. For me, however, the greatest thrill is to be in the city full of the works of the mystical painter El Greco. One of the most amazing displays of his paintings is the 12 apostles, which line the walls of the cathedral's sacristy like so many sacred travel posters! The cathedral itself is astonishing with its intricately carved raridos and a pair of magnificent pipe organs (which have some triumphant horizontal pipes that are dramatic to hear). In a chapel near the west door the liturgy is still celebrated following the Visigothic rite (also known as the Mozarabic Rite), used over 1,000 years ago.

Down the street from the main square and down a few steps is the monastery Museum of Santa Cruz, where we saw the amazing 40-foot long banner from the flagship of Don Juan, which celebrates the triumph of the Christians over the Ottomans at the crucial battle of Lepanto. There is so much there -- mazapán, Toledo swords, Damascene carvings, beautiful ceramics -- but I must stop because there's a lot more to Castilla La Mancha than one city.

One favorite of ours is Cuenca, with its hanging houses and winding streets. Centuries ago this was the headquarters of the Moors as they fought the conquering Christians, but now this ancient town is particularly famous for its Semana Santa processions, which are executed with great solemnity. If you drive south heading toward Andalucía, you will see the beautiful white windmills that attracted Don Quixote. In late October you might be lucky enough to see the saffron harvest. We went to Minaya - a small village where our friends grow and prepare superb saffron. If you want to visit the little villages of rural La Mancha, just turn west at Ciudad Real and it is likely that you will meet shepherds and dairies which produce true Manchego cheese.

Another fascinating town is Almagro, which at one time was the headquarters of the Knights of Calatrava. The whole area was a battlefield between the Moors and the Christians so you can see fabulous castles such as Sigüenza and Belmonte. The options in this are of La Mancha are so rich and numerous one could spend several weeks and just touch the surface.

Related Articles

• Shop Products from Castilla - La Mancha

Tell the truth, none of our family has been to the Canary Islands so far. Their remote location, an impediment for us to travel to as family, is just the reason why I hear the islands are so great. Nevertheless, I would still like to pass along what I have heard about these islands. It is a place I hope to visit very soon.

The Spanish often refer to the Canary Islands as the "Islas Afortunadas" because the sun shines practically every day of the year and the people do not have to worry about borders with other countries. The sky and the sea surround the island group, and their isolation has brought forth an amazing variety of fauna and flora so different from the Iberian Peninsula.

The capital, Las Palmas, was the first city founded by the Spanish and is a busy international port with a cosmopolitan air. The rest of the islands seem to resemble the Garden of Eden. As is the case with many island chains, the Canarias is a little world unto itself located east of Africa in the Atlantic.

In the north and west, the volcanic islands of Canarias have mountains that rise more than a mile high, with their slopes dropping sharply to the sea. In the south, the slopes of the land are more gradual and lead to inviting beaches. I understand that the dramatic high mountain scenery there alternates between old lush greenery of palm and coffee trees. Tomatoes grow next to banana trees and sugar cane. Fruits like pears, mangoes, strawberries and cherries also flourish here. In the south part, you will find a desert landscape and vast gently undulating beaches.

Spaniards and Portuguese came to know about the Canarias as they headed for the new world. Since their ships were dependent on the wind and the ocean currents, it turned out that the prudent way to cross the Atlantic was to go south from the Iberian Peninsula, get provisions in the Canary Islands and then head west.

When the Canary Islands were conquered by Spain in the 15th century, they encountered the native inhabitants, Los Guanches, who were light-skinned blond and blue-eyed people. Many of the men were almost 7 feet tall. With their families, they lived in caves and huts. They had a belief in the afterlife and mummified their dead. Amazingly, even though they were island people, they knew nothing about shipbuilding. Many think they were descended from the Berbers of Africa who may have moved there due to climate change on the Sahara.

The cuisine of the Canary Islands revolves around fish and seafood, which are plentiful. Unique to the region are papas arrugadas (made of potato), mojos (especially mojo picón), and wine from the malvasia grape.

Mojo is an orange, red or green sauce depending on its ingredients. Mojo Picón has a delightfully pungent garlic flavor and is moderately spicy. It is usually made of oil, vinegar, salt, red pepper, thyme, oregano, coriander and several other spices. It is the father of all the mojo sauces of Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Venezuela, due to heavy migration from the Islands.

Papas arrugadas (wrinkled potatoes) are small potatoes that have no skin. When they are boiled and salt water they become wrinkled, and are usually served with chicken and topped with a mojo. Another typical product is Gofio, a local flour created by grinding roasted corn, and added to many foods. It is the prime ingredient of doughy bread called pella.

As you can see, this is a tempting place to go where one can stretch out in the sun, climb the mountains or participate in their Carnaval, which apparently is the most animated in all of Spain. Maybe I'll see you there next year.

Related Articles

• Shop Products from Canary Islands

We enjoy visiting Murcia, at the southeast shoulder of Spain with a few beaches that have remained uncluttered by the tourist trade. The interior of the province is quite mountainous and dry. When we drive through it, we find it reminiscent of the Old West of America. A few decades ago, Murcia was the site for filming many "spaghetti westerns."

We travel up into the rugged mountains to visit Calasparra, the rice capital of Spain. It is here that the local Calasparra rice and the rare Bomba rice are grown. These rices do not grow in the usual briny tidal wetland you might think of, but rather in fresh water brought via Roman-era aqueducts, which had been improved upon by the Moors. Because of the mountains, the rice grains take longer to mature, which makes a drier more absorbent rice to absorb the rich broth of paella.

Not far away is Jumilla where some of the finest wines are grown. Miguel Gil of the Bodega Juan Gil showed us around the vineyards which are amazingly parched in appearance – almost like the face of the moon. The brave vines extend their roots to a layer of chalk beneath the top soil where the moisture of the environment is stored. The extremes of temperature in this high mountain environment make for exquisite wines.

We have driven along the Mediterranean shore past orchards and fields of fresh fruit and vegetables on our way to a favorite city of ours, Cartagena. It was founded about 300BC by the Carthaginians and became one of the principal ports of antiquity. The city is enclosed by several mountains and fortresses built from the 15th to the 18th century.

We enjoy standing on the esplanade overlooking Cartagena’s magnificent natural harbor.

Related Articles

• Shop Products from Murcia
• Cities in Murcia: Cartagena

Madrid is a lighthearted city with an appealing climate, located in the approximate geographic center of the country. In terms of the long history of Spain, Madrid is a young city – about the age of Boston – created as the central seat of government when Philip II thought nearby Toledo was too ancient and crowded. Of course, being the location of the royal court, Madrid became the center of many cosmopolitan activities.

It goes without saying that Madrid’s museum offerings are extraordinary. The welcoming Prado has El Greco, Goya, and Velázquez, as well the works of Flemish masters, including Rogier Van der Weiden’s arresting Descent from the Cross. The collection of the neighboring private Thiessen Museum is comprehensive. A short walk away, the Reina Sophia museum has with a vast collection of modern art including Picasso’s Guernica. Two of the lesser museums which we enjoy revisiting are the Archeological Museum, with its precious Visigoth crowns, and Museo de América which has Mayan, Inca, and pre-Colombian art, including some amazing artifacts of pure gold.

Madrid is a melting pot for all of the gastronomies of Spain, creating a madrileño type of cooking that incorporates the best of the regions. The tapas scene is well developed in the city, serving the locals as well as visitors from around the world. We remember fondly our tapa-hopping nights in Madrid, especially the skewers of spicy pinchitos; creamy croquetas of bacalao (cod) and jamón ; and sizzling gambas al ajillo, little shrimp cooked in olive oil and garlic.

For breakfast we enjoy café con leche served with a flourish from shiny espresso machines. The bartender often lines up about a dozen little cups with an envelope of sugar in each saucer so that he can serve with efficiency. You see, coffee in Spain is not just a matter of pouring from a pot, it is a ritual: the barista first disposes of the old grounds by rapping the individual container against the espresso maker; next he grinds the new coffee; then there is the steaming and frothing of the milk. Finally the café con leche is served. A toasted baguette and some mermalada is a frequent accompaniment. Or it may be time for a special treat of crunchy churros – dipped in very thick chocolate.

Madrid's ambiance and variety of cultural opportunities makes the area an appealing place to visit.

Related Articles

• Shop Products from Madrid